


Inevitable Actuality

by ICouldDoWithAHobby



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 4x15, Action, Angst, Coda Challenge @The FitzSimmons Network, FitzSimmons - Freeform, PTSD, Romance, Skimmons BROTP, The Framework, post 4x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICouldDoWithAHobby/pseuds/ICouldDoWithAHobby
Summary: Set straight after 4x15. Jemma's POV. After Jemma and Daisy hack into The Framework, they struggle to deal with the emotional scars from battling LMD versions of their friends, and the shock of an alternate reality. Finding their team will, hopefully, be the easy part, but bringing them back? Bloody difficult. Still, Jemma made YoYo a promise, and this time she has Daisy by her side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first proper attempt at fanfic, first that I've actually posted anyway haha! Pease be kind, oh and constructive comments are SUPER appreciated. Will be multi chapter and at least until AOS comes back in April (the wait is killing me!).

Jemma opened her eyes with a gasp, rolling off the camp bed her avatar had been laying on and onto her feet, casting her gaze over the room. It looked very much like the basement of an office building. She was in a small alcove off a bigger space filled with ancient computers, rickety looking desks, and chairs with peeling vinyl seats. It was dark and had no windows. In fact, the only light in the place was an erie green glow that came from a flickering exit sign in the far corner.

She took a breath to steady herself and stop her hands from trembling. The pain from her leg, neck and head were gone in The Framework, but an overwhelming pain of another kind was still very much present. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands which had so recently been covered in a mixture of her, Daisy, and Fitz' blood. _Not Fitz' blood_ , she thought, _its' blood_. _Move Simmons,_ she told herself, turning to search the alcove for any clues as to why we're avatar seemed to be hiding. It took one sweeping glance to take in the contents of the makeshift bedroom; empty bottles of water - which had been placed neatly against the wall, she was a neat freak even in an alternate universe it seemed - a rubbish bin filled with food wrappers, a duffel bag, and very little else. Jemma opened the bag and rifled through it; clothes and toiletries, a burner phone, a gun that was most definitely _not_ an ICER, and most interestingly, a single Manila file.

She opened it and let out a humourless laugh. Below a picture of her, with shorter hair and a fierce expression, a watermark graced the document; just one word, in caps. **DECEASED.** She continued reading; 

_Jemma Anne Simmons_

_DOB: 11.09.1987_

_One of the last remaining agents loyal to SHIELD. Responsible for liberating and destroying one Inhuman prison facility since SHIELD's collapse. Believed to be targeting our weapons and science division._

_Threat level: Black_

_Notes: All attempts to terminate Simmons have been unsuccessful. Resulting in Agents deaths. Extremely dangerous, approach to kill not capture._

Jemma noticed what looked like an addition at the bottom, typed in red.  

_File closed: Simmons, Jemma - shot and killed by HYDRA Agent Melinda May._

The file fell from her hands. May? HYDRA? She couldn't believe it. Not in an alternate reality, not in real life, never. She'd accept that her own avatar was some kind of rogue, furiosa SHIELD agent, that she had faked her own death, before she believed that May was HYDRA.

* * *

It was a strange feeling to stare at one's own grave, Jemma thought. Fresh daisies lay beside the headstone, and though she had expected them, it still sent a shiver up her spine. She wondered vaguely if this was how Fury or Coulson had felt, in the real world. Jemma had a feeling she was about to know what it was like to be dead to those you know and love. _Best not to think of that right now, silly woman_ _._ A girl in grey skinny jeans and a black hoodie stopped at the plot next to her.

"Simmons," Daisy said, in a rather panicked voice, "Ward is here, and my fricken avatar is with him. Like _with_ him, with him."

Jemma's stomach churned, her hands clenched yet again (they should have been sore by now). Of course Ward was here.

"That's not all either, HYDRA is everywhere, and we work for them."

"Oh bloody hell. This is going to be even harder than we thought Daisy," said Jemma. She explained how her avatar had faked her own death after being shot by Hydra May. Daisy just stared at her incredulously, her mouth forming a tiny 'o'.

"Feels like life imitating art," Jemma continued, nodding at her fake grave and forcing a small smile she was certain came out as a grimace. Daisy glanced at Jemma's headstone and shook her head slightly, as if trying to get its image out of her mind.

"We need to get the ball rolling, who do we try to get first?" She said, linking their arms and walking away from Jemma's fake burial.

“I feel Coulson, Mack, or Fitz will be the easiest to get to," Jemma replied, "And I have no idea where to look for Mace, as we know the least about him, we'll need to do research on all of them anyway. Find out who they are here. May is the priority though, because she's been in the Framework the longest. She's also the most risky if she’s not undercover for SHIELD, or rogue like my avatar.“

"May is the strongest though."

"I know, but Daisy, she's been in it so long, even May's body will give out eventually. And that’s not accounting for possible brain damage.“

Daisy kicked at a stone, her brows furrowing, and Jemma knew she was thinking about Fitz, after the pod. "Why is it always our team, getting torn apart in literally the worst way possible?“

"I don't know," Jemma said, as they came to a stop on a small hill, and stared over the city. While every detail mirrored the real world, there was something plastic about The Framework. It was technically a beautiful day, but there was a greyness to it, like the sun couldn't quite touch the trees, or the buildings, or the people. Perhaps it was just because Daisy and her knew it wasn't real, but whatever it was, they had to convince their friends to see it too. They were a family.

That doesn't change in any universe.

She hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Do your worst."  
"Now Simmons if you'd really gotten to know me, you'd know I would never hurt you," said Ward with that disturbingly serious expression on his face, as if he believed what he was saying.  
"But Giyera here, that's a different story," he added with a smirk.  
Ward's face suddenly morphed into Giyera's, promising her pain as a wrench and knife and various other implements floated menacingly towards her, but Giyera was now Ward again, who had grasped the suspended knife and was pushing it into her thigh slowly with an unhinged expression.  
"Do you understand me? DO YOU?" Ward screamed amidst Jemma's own screams of pain, and she didn't remember what he wanted from her. Then the twisted anger on Ward's face distorted and became Fitz, who was crying, and she stopped screaming and reached out to him, but he only smiled an empty smile, peeling back the skin on his neck to reveal metal and wires and everything _ not _Fitz._  
_"Don't hurt me!" she pleaded._  
 _"I won't. I couldn't," not-Fitz replied, grabbing the wrench which was still floating and bringing it back to strike her-_

Jemma woke with a gasp, feeling clammy and sitting against the cool concrete wall of the basement her avatar called home.  _Oh fab, we can still dream here,_  she thought bitterly. It made sense; after all, it was their minds, their very consciousness, that was hooked into The Framework. She supposed she should get used to nightmares. A clunk from the air vent broke her from her thoughts, and Jemma jumped to her feet, aiming the gun at the vent which was the only way in or out of the building's basement undetected. A shuffling sound got closer and closer, and Jemma's grip tightened, waiting. Then there was a whistle.

“Bloody hell Daisy!" Jemma said, tucking the gun into her waist band and moving to help her out, "you could whistle sooner."  
"Well it's a little hard to concentrate when you're not a huge fan of enclosed spaces," Daisy said.  
"You used to live in a van-"  
"It's different!"  
"And then the BUS, sleeping in a bunk that was even smaller."  
"You know what, they're both really different to a vent shaft okay? Anyways we're gonna blow this joint today so I don't have to crawl through the freaking thing anymore,” Daisy said.  
"And where are we going?"  
Daisy took out a roll of cash, smirking and looking incredibly proud of herself.  
"I figured Ward is still Ward, even here, so I poked around and found his hidey-hole. There was so much he won't even miss it, and I conveniently told him I was doing a search for my birth parents and it was something I 'needed to do alone'. Ha! The jerk believed me and didn't question it. So we, my friend, are going to a hotel. Well, a motel, we're not made of money."  
In spite of the nightmare, Jemma was glad she’d be able to sleep in a proper bed tonight, after they'd done some recon on the team that was.  
"Daisy, did you-"  
"Yeah so I bought the laptop on my way here, and uh...well I wasn't even looking but I was buying snacks at a newsstand and it kinda jumped out at me," she rummaged through the backpack and handed Jemma a magazine.

Forbes Magazine.

With a picture of Fitz on the front cover. Wearing un-Fitz like clothes, in a very un-Fitz like pose, and- what the bloody hell had he done to his hair?  
"The billionaire world of Fitz Technology: a family affair," Jemma read aloud.  
"Yeah I hope they didn't pay somebody for that title," Daisy said, giving Jemma a sympathetic grimace.  
Jemma took a breath, reminding herself that it was The Framework, not real life. As it turned out, the article was very informative. Fitz’ father, shown in a smaller photo inside (and filling Jemma with rage) had brought his prodigy son and youngest graduate from MIT ever into the company early, (“Looks like a total dick," Daisy said of the senior Fitz). Fitz had made developments on the company's weapons technology, including biometric hand grips on guns for the military and private security, (Daisy scoffed at that, “if private means HYDRA, I’m gonna be so pissed.”). It also mentioned that his next public appearance would be a charity function in a day's time (“That better explain his stupid haircut," Daisy muttered). They'd find out soon enough, Jemma thought. If he was as big a deal here as the article made out, then this would be the easiest way to talk to him. They had to crash that party.

"But first," Daisy said, turning the laptop in Jemma’s direction, "we're going back to school."


End file.
